


Phil's Coffee Shop

by Maripose



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: A Little BDSM, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Like if you squint its there, M/M, Out of Order, Slow Build, but it's like...taking its time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 04:12:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6269092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maripose/pseuds/Maripose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small coffee shop and the snippets from it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I work in a coffee shop, but I don't have PTSD, so take this as you will. 
> 
> I'll probably be adding to this.

Bucky glanced up and over the espresso machine to eye the small man leaning back in his chair as he sketched in a notebook. 

Bucky kept watching the other man as he finished up the latté he was making, only glancing away briefly to make eye contact with his customer and offer them a ‘good day’ nod before going right back to staring at the small artist.

“You can always talk to him, you know? Coulson would probably even appreciate you speaking to someone.” Clint approached him from this right side and remained close, but not touching him. 

Bucky grunted quietly and nodded his head a little, continuing to stare.

“Look Buck, there’s only so much staring you can do before he notices you and it gets a little weird man.”  
Bucky grunted quietly again, his eyes still fixated on the slender artist’s fingers as they held a piece of charcoal. 

“Whatever Barnes. Your man, your deal.” Clint threw up his hands and went off to the back, leaving Bucky up front by himself. 

He leaned back against the counter and chewed his lip as he watched the tiny artist's hands sweep across the page, his fingertips blackened by the charcoal, his face set in a determined look. 

Bucky’s expressio. slowly slid into a small smile, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he watched the nimble artist in his craft.

“James.” Bucky’s body jolted without his conscious thought, turning into the punch he threw.

Coulson’s hand enveloped his fist, body staying relaxed, and his face creased in a small smile. 

Bucky stepped back, ripping his fist out of Coulson’s hand and curling it to his chest. Pushing his left shoulder forward in the process and turning his stump shoulder into stark contrast, his body breaking out in a cold sweat as he tried to ignore the curious looks from around the room. 

“Sorry about that James, I should have known better. I came to tell you to take a ten, but you look like you could use a thirty. Take an early lunch.” Coulson’s face was apologetic and calm. 

Bucky kept his vision focussed on his boss in front of him, trying to ignore all the stares that were making him even more tense than ever before. 

He gave a quick nod and almost ran into the back room to collapse in the swivel chair at the desk.

Clint squeezed his good shoulder as he walked to the front, staunchly looking in front of him to provide as much privacy as he could give Bucky. 

Bucky ducked his head between his knees and curled his arms around his head, taking as deep breaths as his chest could handle with the compression against his thighs. 

“Hey Bucky?” A small, lilting voice drifted into Bucky’s awareness.

“Bucky I’m coming in ok? I won’t get near you if you don’t want me to, and I won’t step into arm reach until you acknowledge me.”

Bucky held out a shaking hand and gave a thumbs up.  
He heard a huff of a laugh before he felt someone move close and a small cool hand touch the back of his neck. 

He felt his shoulders instantly relax and raised his shaking hand to grip the wrist of the cool hand. He wrapped his fingers full around the tiny wrist and instantly stiffened when he recognized the delicate bones under his grip.

“Tiny Artist?” Bucky’s voice came out gruff and rusty, too settled into its unuse to suddenly perk back to its normal husky baritone. 

A small air laugh was his response, “The name’s Steve. But I will take that from you gladly.” 

Bucky smiled and squeezed the wrist before letting it go and settling his arms on his thighs and slowly raising up to a seated position. He glanced over and saw the slender face he had memorized and dreamed about. 

Steve smiled down at him, “There, feeling any better?”  
Bucky felt a smile, small as it may be it was still there, tugging back on his lips before he nodded. 

“Good.” Steve pulled his hand away from Bucky’s neck before extending it in front of him, “Hi, I’m Steve and I’ve noticed you watching me whenever I try to watch you.”

Bucky felt a laugh startle out of him before he gripped the hand in front of him, “I’m James.” his voice was still gravelly and uneven, and he gave a small cough before pulling his hand back from the shake, “but most people call me Bucky.”

Steve’s smile was large enough it looked fit to crack his face, “That’s quite an odd name.”

“So’s Buchanan, but Bucky seems less weird than that.” 

Steve nodded sagely, “Very fair.”

Bucky leaned back, “How’d you learn to coach a through a freakout?”

“Well, you already seemed most of the way through it, you seemed to be doin’ alright by yourself. But to answer you, my friend is Sam, he’s-”

“Sam the crazy progressive V.A. counselor Sam who runs the support groups Sam?” Bucky could feel his voice starting to strain a bit with the sudden bout of enthusiastic talking. 

“That’s my Sam. He’s a good friend and I try to volunteer there a lot, so I’ve picked up a few things here and there.”

Bucky finally looked up to meet Steve’s eyes, “Never joined up yourself?”

Steve’s gaze slid away and he took a step back, folding his arms in front of himself defensively, “I’m too small and too-too sick to ever be accepted.”

Bucky’s hand shot out and touched Steve’s elbow, his unrelenting grip causing Steve to look at his face, which was serious.

“Good.” Bucky began to pull his hand away and Steve reached out, taking his hand, “Hey so, am, am I reading this wrong?”

Bucky smiled and squeezed Steve’s hand, “Nope. You’re readin’ this right.” Steve’s smile matched Bucky’s, “Good.”


	2. Some Background

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little meet and greet that introduces who's here, and how.

Darcy smiled up at her boss as she stayed leaned over the counter, “Now BossMan, you know the two of us can’t keep running this place. We’ll die. You need to hire some new fresh faces. I know a few people, you’ll love them.”

Phil groaned and leaned back, tugging gently at the waist of Darcy’s pants to pull her upright and into a hug. Darcy allowed her boss to cuddle up to her, his arms snug around her middle. 

“Phil,” Darcy waited a moment for Phil’s grunt of acknowledgment before continuing, “Its ok to ask for help, and to need help with something like this. Opening this shop is a big undertaking, it's ok to not be able to do everything yourself.”

Phil huffed into Darcy’s hair before pulling back slightly, “I know that. I just don’t have anything else to do, and that severance package was good enough to start this and still leave me comfortable. It's not like I’m doing much else with my life.”

“You could be.” 

Darcy let the sentence hang between them for a few seconds before she began to turn in Phil’s arms before he stopped her and hugged her close against his front again. 

“I know Darcy. I just need time.” 

She patted Phil’s hand, “I know Boss. You talk all the time you need Boss. I’ll bring some friends in and you can check them out, see if they’re a good fit, ok?”

Phil nodded against her back before finally releasing her, “Alright. I’ll meet them.”

Darcy turned to smile at him, “Good.”

\--

“I’m not the best talker. I’m goal oriented. Just-” The man in front of him sighed deeply and ran his hand through his hair, “Look, Phil?” the brunette made eye contact and sighed again before looking down.

“I’m fresh out of P.T. for my arm,” he gestured to the direction of his stump shoulder, “I get flashbacks a lot, I’m unreliable to be here on time all the time, and I spook at loud noises and I’m an eyesore.” The man finally leaned back and made eye contact with Phil, “The military is only gonna give me so much and I need to live. So I’d like the job. Please. I’ll do what you ask and I’ll do it well.”

Phil leaned forward and held out a hand, “Sam was one of the only people to help when I came back. He’s never wrong about people, and if he says you could work, I have faith that with a little elbow grease you’ll be ship shape. I won’t promise this will be easy, but I promise that if you do your best, so will I.” 

Phil’s smile disarms James for a moments before he extends his right hand and shake’s Phil’s, “Shit, really?” 

Phil laughs and pumps his hand, “Yup. You have yourself a job Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky dazedly nods his head before following Phil as he stands up. 

“Now, lets get you aquainted with making drinks.” Bucky follows him out to the front, his dazed look falling into a small, rare, smile. 

\--

“I don’t want to look at people, I don’t want to talk to anyone, I just want to bake. I want to bake what I want and you’ll sell them.”

The petite redhead in front of him kept a neutral face, arms crossed in front of her as Phil ate the last of the chocolate croissant she had laid in front of him.

Phil nodded emphatically around his mouthful and chewed enthusiastically as he shot her a thumbs up. 

After finished his mouthful he finished nodding before taking a sip of his coffee, “Whatever you want, just bake like that. Dear heavens above that was amazing.”

Natasha gave a small smile, “Can do.”

Phil smiled back and reached for the mixed berry danish she had prepared as well. 

\--

“Please I’ll work extra hard and do anything you want me to, and I’ll work really hard I promise.”

Phil sighed and leaned back in his chair, “Peter, for the ninth time, I’m sorry, I don’t hire below eighteen. I’m sorry. Go home.”

“But Uncle Phil I can do it I can help I can work-”

Phil held up a hand, “Pete. No. Go home. Focus on school. Go bug your Aunt and Uncle.”

Peter sighed again and leaned back in his seat, “Yeah yeah. I’ll just hang out here all the time anyway.”

“Now that, that’s totally fine.” Phil smiled and held his hand out, palm up on his desk. Peter huffed and laid his hand in the one presented to him. 

Phil beamed at the kid and squeezed his hand, “As soon as you’re old enough, I’ll hire you. Promise.”

Peter grumbled a bit before nodding and meeting Phil’s eye, “Thanks Uncle Phil.”

Phil’s smile grew larger and warmer, “Almost anythin’ for you kiddo.”

\--

“Hi I’m Clint!” 

The loud voice seemed to echo inside the small store.

Phil’s head shot up at the loud voice and a hiss and clatter to his left pushed him into action. 

He ran over to the left side with the espresso machine and shut off the steamwand before crouching low, “Buck.”

The figured, curled up tight in the corner near the fridge barely moved.

“Woah dude, sorry abo-”

Phil glared up at the man leaning over the counter and pointed a finger at him stiffly, “You. Move away. Now.”

Clint raised his hands up and stepped back, “Sorry sorry I didn’t realize loud noises would be-”

“No.” The word rang out and Clint’s jaw snapped shut. Phil met his eyes from his spot on the ground. “Stay right there. Do not move. Do not speak.” 

Clint gave a thumbs up and Phil focussed his attention back on the man on the ground in front of him, “Bucky. Buck.” he held out his hand, palm up, and waited as he quietly repeated James's name in different forms until he finally looked up and extended his hand out and lightly touched Phil’s hand. 

Phil smiled and looked Bucky in the eye, “Alright James. You wanna stand up and we’ll go to the backroom? Your back will appreciate it, I’m sure.”

Bucky dipped a shallow nod before standing and clutching Phil’s hand, hunching his shoulders in. Phil led him to the back room before coming back out and picking up the dropped milk container. 

He grabbed a rag and began to clean up the milk behind the counter.

“Uhm, Sir-” Phil leaned back and looked at the man on the other side of the counter.

“You better have a damn good reason for barging in here screaming and giving my barista flashbacks young man.” Phil’s glare cut the man to the quick.

He stood stock still and held his hands up again, “I-I was just-I’m a friend of-I mean Darcy told me to apply and I saw it was empty and I just wanted to-”

Phil held up a hand and cut him off, “You wait now. I’m going to clean this up and then we’ll talk.”

Clint shot forward and leaned against the counter, “I can clean I’m really good at cleaning I promise I-”

“Alright Boy, you wait quietly. Now.”

Clint nodded and kept watching Phil, his eyes wide.  
When Phil had finished cleaning the mess he deposited the rag in the dirty laundry basket and returned to the front to find the man hadn’t moved. 

Phil took a deep breath, went around the counter and stood in front of Clint, “Alright, in a normal human volume, how can I help you?”

Clint looked chastised and kept his eyes down when talking to Phil, “I’m Darcy’s friend, Clint. She asked me to come in and talk about a job but I blew that, huh?”

He huffed a self deprecating laugh and kept his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched. 

Phil leaned himself back against his counter and crossed his arms, looking Clint up and down, “This might take a second. Take a seat wherever you’d like.” Phil gestured to the tables settled around the cozy place before walking to the front door and flipping the sign to closed.

Clint stood from the seat he had settled in, “No you don’t have to close I can-”

Phil held up a hand and Clint went silent and sat back down. Phil walked behind the counter and nodded to Clint, “What would you like to drink?”

Clint glanced away and shrugged, “Small plain coffee please.”

Phil nodded his head and poured the coffee into a small cup before making himself a café au lait and taking both cups to Clint’s table and sitting down.

“First, I employ several veterans, I myself am a veteran. Hence, James. He needs time to cool down and I’m going to talk to you, so closing is an acceptable thing to do. I promise, the boss won't get mad.” Phil winked at Clint and the younger blonde man felt his face heat in a flush before he nodded. 

“Now, tell me about yourself.” Phil leaned back and cradled the warm mug in his hands, watching Clint as he sat, back straight, shoulders hunched, and began to speak to the table.

“I, uhm, I’m a friend of Darcy’s, and I’m-I’m a student, and I’m-I need a job to help make ends meet. So, she asked me to come talk to you. But, well-”

Phil tapped the table where Clint’s eyes had remained riveted and Clint flicked his eyes up to Phil’s, “Up here, Clint.” He pointed to his own eyes and Clint flushed, his neck and cheeks pinking.

“Clint, I’m not trying to torture you, this is just two people talking. Relax a little.” Phil let his shoulders relax more and tried to make Clint feel more comfortable with him. 

Clint relaxed a bit, sitting back in his chair, “I am sorry about earlier. I get excited sometimes and just, don’t think.” 

Phil smiled and set his mug on the table, “It's alright. Bucky will be fine, everything is ok and not broken. No real harm, no foul. Just, try to be quieter around James.”

Clint nodded, “Yeah of course Sir I just didn’t think.”

Phil felt a small thrill up his spine at Clint’s usage of Sir and wondered if maybe he could be in a spot of trouble. He leaned forward and smiled, “You’re more than welcome to be as happy and loud to my customers as you’d like.”

Clint looked taken aback, “Even after-”

Phil nodded looking pleased, “Yup. You’re hired. If Darcy thinks you can work, I think so too.” 

Clint grinned and Phil had a moment to prepare himself as Clint launched himself around the side of the table and straight at Phil.

“Thank you Sir! Thank you so much Boss Dude! Boss Man! Aw this is awesome!”

As Clint gushed and hugged Phil, Phil laughed and hugged Clint back. Knowing without a doubt that he was definitely in trouble where the smaller man was concerned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha gets a chapter, because she is always my favorite behind Steve Rogers. Also, I acknowledge Clint is OOC, but I like to think of him in a "No Finer Mess To Be Found" context than the movies, and slightly like the comics, but happier and easier I guess? Just roll with it please.

Natasha kneaded the dough between her hands and the counter, folding it over and over and intermittently grabbing flour to sprinkle it across her hands, the dough, or the counter. 

As she worked she stayed quiet, all her focus being pushed into the dough. The world around her remained quiet and cold, the only heat from the oven she had turned on, otherwise she left the building heat off. 

The 2am chill permeated the air around her and kept her cocooned in her concentration. 

\--

Coulson appeared in the doorway, telegraphing all his movements and letting Natasha know exactly where he was, “Hey Natasha, I’m going to be opening soon. I won’t be bothering you and I’ll make sure no one else does, you can keep on as long as you’d like.”

Natasha let a small hum escape her and Coulson smiled before he turned away, closing the door to the bakery portion of his shop behind him to afford Natasha more space and her own area. 

Coulson let her bake for more than just his shop, allowing her to rent the space as long as she kept baking for him as well as all the other places she baked for.

She continued on in her motions, ignoring the sounds of the world starting up outside the room, and keeping the windows to the kitchen tightly closed and curtained. 

She allowed the room to warm up around her, never removing the long sleeve shirt she wore over her tank top, and never trying to cool the room down at all. 

Coulson dipped back in later, announcing his presence with a minor tap on the door before he opened it and stuck his head in, “Clint is taking over, I’m going out for lunch, would you like me to get you anything?”

Natasha pulled her hands out of the syrupy mixture of berries and looked up and met Coulson’s eyes, “Soup.”

He nodded once and smiled to her, showing no teeth and keeping his face neutral otherwise, “Yes Miss.”

He closed the door, and Natasha stood for a few moments, elbows bent and hands raised, stained red and maroon. 

She looked to her hands and slowly lowered them, glancing to her feet before tossing her head up and walking towards the door, grabbing the handle and feeling the smush of moisture against the metal. 

She walked out the bakery door and walked through Coulson’s office until she appeared onto the floor, Clint leaning on the counter, a bright smile on his face as he talked to a small male, blonde hair, eyes a bright shining blue.

They both turned to look at Natasha as she emerged, her hands still stained but now laying by her sides.

She stared back at them until Clint smiled wider and approached, keeping a few footsteps away from her and extending a hand, his face open and happy, “I’m Clint, and I think you’re Natasha. I’ve heard a lot about you but I’ve never met you so hello. Hi. This is Steve. He’s here a lot but he doesn’t work here too. Just works in here. On his art. He’s an artist. He’s dating Bucky. You haven’t met him but he’s here too a lot. But he works here. Here here, not just in here like Steve.”

Natasha maintained eye contact but ignored his hand until Clint put it down, his smile never really fading.

She glanced to Steve to see his face pinched in at the mouth, eyeing Clint, before the cerulean blues turned her way and she felt pinned beneath his gaze.

Her mouth twisted down into a frown and Clint stepped into her path, blocking Steve, “Don’t mind him he’s grumpy he and Bucky had a fight thing about nothing so now he’s having a really hard time being not grumpy but he’s usually sunshine incarnate I promise.”

Natasha met Clint’s eyes again before nodding once, raising her right hand and laying her open sticky palm on his cheek, cupping gently and lightly touching a fingertip to his earlobe before taking her hand away and walking back to her bakery.

Clint and Steve stood at the front counter together, Clint’s eyes alight with joy, a smile still smeared across his face when Coulson walked back in and saw him, the bags in his hands being set on the counter as he reached a hand out to Clint’s face, “Aw Clint what did you-”

Clint turned to Coulson and pushed his face into Coulson’s hand, smearing the sticky residue onto Coulson’s outstretched fingertips, still smiling, and said, “ Natasha and I are friends now!”

Coulson and Steve both looked baffled for a moment and Clint turned away to help a customer.

The Steve and Coulson met eyes, shrugged, and went opposite ways, Steve to finish his sketch of Bucky’s lower face, Coulson to bring Natasha soup and wash his hands, neither questioning Clint’s enthusiasm over a friendship both knew was not possible.

\--

The next morning Coulson dipped his head into the bakery as per usual, Natasha already having filled the counters with various baked goods and all the things leading up to it and tucked underneath the counter Clint sat, his hands bound in front of him in a simple tie, his mouth free and running even as Coulson dipped his head into the room.

Natasha looked up to him, Clint looking over and smiling, cutting himself off, “Hey Boss Man how’s your morning! Mine has been a ton of fun, I couldn’t sleep so I came here to make sure it was locked up properly ‘cause sometimes it keeps me up and Natasha was here and we’ve been talking and she’s really nice you hired a really great baker and person here Boss. Nice job. Do you need me to go up front I can go work the front if you want I don’t mind Natasha probably doesn’t either right Natasha?”

There was a brief pause as he looked up at Natasha and she glanced down at him, her face impassive. 

Clint looked back to Coulson, “Natasha said it was ok if you want me to come up front so if you want me to just let me know otherwise I’ll be here ok Boss Man?”

Coulson allowed an indulgent, if confused, smile to slide onto his face, “Alright Clint. I’ll be up front, you stay here, if I need you I will let you know. Enjoy yourselves.”

Clint raised his bound hands in a wave and Natasha didn’t look up from her workspace, but Coulson could hear Clint pick up his talking as he closed the door behind him.

As he walked to the front he felt his smile grow, and yet, underneath his happiness that Natasha and Clint had found a comfort in eachother, he could feel a deep burn of jealousy across his chest and knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep thinking of Clint in a family-friendly way if he didn’t do something about himself soon.


End file.
